


The Interval

by flashofthefuse



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:37:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashofthefuse/pseuds/flashofthefuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack follows Phryne to London and goes in search of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Interval

**Author's Note:**

> This one has been in the works for awhile now, but I was having a hard time because I'm not sure I believe Jack would actually follow Phryne all the way to London. I had to finish it after reading a tragic fanfic that rocked my faith in Phrack. (Thanks Bill0014 for that, BTW.)

Jack hung back in the shadows near a large pillar where her eyes couldn’t see him. He just wanted to watch her for a minute, and simply drink her in.

He could have just showed up on her doorstep, but had decided instead to surprise her in a more public setting. Mainly, because he thought it would keep him from grabbing her up in his arms until he could determine if she’d truly meant it when she’d asked him to come after her. In the weeks between her leaving and his own departure, he’d had only one telegram. He had it in his pocket now, having carried it everyday since its arrival. She’d sent it around the halfway point in her journey.

 _Whole world out here Jack. You’d like it._  

He’d taken that as encouragement and booked his passage, but with too much time to think on the long voyage, he’d begun to doubt.

Once he’d arrived, she hadn’t been hard to track down. The local gossip pages had provided a veritable diary of her days in London. After perusing back copies at the library, he was fairly sure he’d find her at tonight’s event; an opening night at the Savoy Theater, featuring one of London’s most celebrated actresses.

It was fortunate timing, he’d only arrived the previous day, but didn’t think he could have waited much longer to see her. Had he not found her at the theater, he’d have given up on the surprise, and thrown himself at her mercy on her front step.

From the newspapers, it looked as though she’d been keeping busy since her arrival. There was an extensive photographic record and endless column inches dedicated to speculation about the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher, who was being escorted about town by various eligible and powerful men. It was rare for her to be seen with any man more than once or twice, adding to her intrigue. Jack spent a fair amount of time looking at the pictures, but the flat, black and white images couldn’t hold a candle to the living, breathing woman he came all these miles to see.

Phryne looked magnificent as always. She wore a velvet dress of various hues of blue. It was a tad more modest than some of the dresses he’d seen her wear in Melbourne, but no less eye catching. Although, she could have been wearing an old flour sack and still look good to him.

He reluctantly tore his eyes from her to take a good look at her companion for the evening. Jack didn’t recognize him from any of the newspaper’s photographs. He was tall, and dark. A little greasy looking, Jack thought. He sported an unfortunate mustache resembling a horseshoe, which hung on his upper lip limply and did nothing to improve his long, thin face.

Jack decided it was time to make himself known. The Interval wouldn’t last forever and if she moved he might lose her in the crowd and miss his chance.

“I understand that her name is a box office draw, but she is far too old for the role,” Phryne said. “The character is suppose to be an ingenue, seduced by an older man, who is obsessed with her youth and beauty.”

“But she is a dame of the London stage,” her companion argued.

“I don’t quarrel about her talent, it’s just a little hard to believe,” she said.

“But doesn’t all theater require a suspension of disbelief, Miss Fisher?” Jack said, approaching from behind and slightly to her left, mindful of the drink in her hand. He wanted to avoid any spillage should his presence surprise her the way he thought it might. The formal suit had served him well through the years, and he’d hate to see it soiled on only his second night in London.

She turned slowly, blinking at him as though he were a mirage. His instincts were not far off, and it was only his quick reflexes, reaching out to steady her elbow as the glass shifted in her grip, that spared her lovely gown and shoes.

“Jack,” she said, in a manner that indicated utter disbelief. “You’re here!”

“Miss Fisher,” he said in greeting, tilting his head at her. The way her face lit up sent a bolt of electricity jolting through him. He squeezed her elbow lightly before releasing her.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” he said, “but I couldn’t pass without saying hello.”

Phryne stood non-plussed, incapable of speech, but the smile that broke over her face said everything.

“Phryne, are you going to introduce me to your friend?” her companion asked. The man was not quite sure what was going on, but the air around his lovely date and this interloper was suddenly charged and crackling.

“Of course,” she said, finding her manners, and turning briefly to her companion “Freddie, this is Detective Inspector Jack Robinson.”

Jack noticed that Freddie puffed out his chest a bit and stood a little taller as Phryne introduced him. Even so, he was still an inch of two shy of Jack’s height.

“Police?” the mustachioed dandy said, raising an eyebrow as he extended his hand to Jack. “Freddie Lippemane, pleased to make your acquaintance, Detective Inspector. How do you know our Miss Fisher?”

The man’s voice set Jack’s teeth on edge. It was thin and reedlike, and he had a pretentious air that Jack found off putting. Up close he was older than he’d first appeared. His hair looked unnaturally dark, as though it had been dyed, the bizarre mustache as well, except at the tips. Oddly, most of it was dyed the same artificial hue as his hair, but the last half inch or so remained a stubborn grayish brown. It reminded Jack of a couple of two-toned, fuzzy caterpillars.

“Call me Jack, please,” He said amiably, “I’m not a policeman here. Just a man on holiday. Miss Fisher and I became acquainted in Melbourne.”

“Ah, no doubt you’ve had runs ins with her while she was playing her little lady detective games. Isn’t she remarkable?” Freddie said, in a patronizing tone that made Jack bristle but, Phryne, her eyes still on Jack, hardly seemed to notice the slight.

“I’d very much like to hear what brings you to London, Inspector,” Phryne said, “and, more importantly, _when_ you arrived.”

“I’m here on a long overdue holiday,” Jack said. “A good friend recently reminded me that ‘ _there is a whole world’_ worth seeing and I thought it was time I saw some of it. I arrived only yesterday, Miss Fisher.”

“Yesterday! You’ve been here since yesterday?” she said, incredulously. Freddie turned to her in surprise, startled by the vehemence in her response. She corrected herself, smiling benignly, and adding, “where are you staying?”

“A small inn on Bayswater Road, not far from the Underground station,” he said. “It’s nothing fancy, but perfectly serviceable.”

“And, are you enjoying your stay so far?”

Her tone was calm and polite, but the way she narrowed her eyes at Jack, had him rethinking the wisdom of his plan to surprise her.

“I only arrived late yesterday, and tonight is the highlight of my trip, Miss Fisher,” he said, hoping to appease her a little. “It’s been far too long since I’ve had the pleasure of seeing anything quite so enthralling.”

“The show is rather marvelous, isn’t it? And Dame Edwina is delightful,” Freddie agreed, trying to insert himself into the conversation. He’d been trying to get Miss Fisher to agree to an evening out for several weeks, he’d finally gotten her out to this show and was not pleased to have her attention diverted for the whole of the interval.

“I have to say, I’m surprised to hear you’re enjoying the show, Jack,” Phryne said, completely disregarding her companion's remark.

“Why is that? You know well my love for theater, Miss Fisher,” he said.

“Yes, I’m familiar with your tastes. This is an operetta, Jack,” she said significantly, raising a cheeky eyebrow.

“The venue has other things to recommend it, Miss Fisher,” he said, seriously.

“It most certainly does,” chimed in Freddie. It’s a fine old building. They’ve just completed a restoration, you know,” he said, looking at Phryne. The way she had locked eyes with the newcomer was most disconcerting. “How long are you planning to stay in London, Jack?” He asked.

“My stay is open ended,” Jack said, his eyes flitting to Freddie momentarily before returning to Phryne. “I may stay quite some time or, if things here aren’t what I’d hoped, I may move on rather soon.”

There was a pregnant pause as she considered his words and how to respond.

“I’m sure you will not be disappointed in your time here,” Phryne said, still looking intently at him, “Though, I must admit, in my recent travels, I’ve discovered that London, and the entire world for that matter, don’t have as much to offer as I might have thought they would.”

A slow, rather shy smile spread across Phryne’s face, and Jack felt himself returning one in kind.The tension, which had been simmering, now threatening to boil over.

“That can’t be true, my dear,” Freddie said taking Phryne’s hand, caressing it obsequiously. “I hope you’re not saying you plan to leave London any time too soon?”

“I was rather thinking of moving on. I’ve missed my home. But perhaps I’ve been hasty. London suddenly holds a great deal more appeal,” she said.

Chimes sounded to indicate the end of the interval.

“I’d better let you return to your seats,” Jack said, bowing slightly. “As always, Miss Fisher, it was a delight seeing you. I hope to see you again soon. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Robinson,” Freddie said with finality, extending his arm for Phryne to take.

Phryne took the arm offered, even though it felt distinctly wrong to do so. It felt nothing like the arm she wanted to be latching on to at the moment. That arm she knew well. It was firm, with sinewy muscles that tensed when she gripped them.

He was always so still, and sure. You’d never know it to look at him, but when she touched him, she could feel the blood hum in his veins. Feel it rushing madly, making his whole body vibrate with potency.

She headed with her companion up the stairs toward their seats in the mezzanine, her mind whirring. She turned to look back at Jack and saw that instead of returning into the theater, he was moving against the crowd, heading for the main entrance doors. She continued with Freddie a few more feet, then stopped.

Oh, my,” she said, clutching at her stomach.

“What is it? Are you all right my dear?” Freddie asked.

“I’m afraid I’m not,” she said with a grimace. “A sudden stomach ache. I must excuse myself. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ll see you home immediately,” he said.

“No!” she said. “I wouldn’t dream of making you miss the rest of the play, and I believe I may have to stop some while in the ladie’s toilets before I can leave,” she said, fairly sure that that image would allow her to get away quickly. “I’m so sorry, but, it’s become rather urgent. Please go on in, and enjoy the show. I’ll see myself home,” she said, already moving away from him and heading down the staircase.

“Are you sure I can’t assist you?” Freddie called, uncertainly. She waved vaguely at him and hurried on in apparent distress.

“No,” she said. “Do go on, I’ll rejoin you if I can.”

Freddie stood bewildered, not sure how to proceed. He wanted to do the gentlemanly thing, but wasn’t immediately sure what that would be. He finally concluded that she’d prefer her privacy in her particular state of discomfort. He certainly would have. The usher signaled for him to return to his seat, settling the matter for him.

Phryne continued resolutely on her way. At the bottom of the stairs, she glanced back to make sure Freddie had gone in to the show. She then harassed the coat check girl to quickly find her cloak, tossing a generous tip her way for the trouble, and fled through the lobby and out the theater doors.

The Underground would be the fastest way back to Jack’s hotel. Would he head for the nearest station or want to walk a bit? It was a pleasant evening. Unsure which way to go, she stood on the sidewalk, her head swiveling in each direction. Heading toward the Strand, moving at an unhurried pace, she spotted a familiar silhouette. The hat settled just so on his head, the trench coat flowing out behind him. She’d know it anywhere. She ran.

“Jack!”

He thought he heard his name and stopped for a moment, just to be sure.

“Jack! Wait!”

He turned to see her running toward him, much like she had in that field those months ago. He moved swiftly in her direction, mindful of the people watching, their attention drawn by her shouts, but before long abandoned all dignity, breaking into a run himself. He stopped a few feet from her, expecting her to slow upon nearing. She kept coming, at a run, straight for him.

His heart, already pounding in his chest, sped to an alarming rate and he braced himself to catch her when she threw herself at him. She hit him with surprising force for such a small person, and he felt her arms go around his neck as he gripped her waist and lifted her from the ground.

Her mouth sought his with a ferocity that robbed him of breath and filled him with a joy he didn’t think he’d ever felt before. He returned her kiss fervently, unconcerned with the fact that they stood on a busy street corner in one of the most heavily populated cities in the world.

When they finally broke apart, and he’d set her gently on her feet, she looked up at him, her hands still on his shoulders, and smiled. His head felt so light he thought it might float off.

She stepped back then, her smile fading and brows furrowing. She smacked him, rather hard, on the chest, and planted her hands firmly on her hips.

“How dare you do that to me!” she said.

A familiar feeling crept over him. The feeling of being slightly upside down and one step behind.

“You’ve got some nerve, Jack Robinson,” she said. “Yesterday? You arrived yesterday, with no word, and then ambush me in a crowded theater lobby?"

“I...’ he began.

“You came,” she interrupted, her arms dropping, her voice now soft and slightly awestruck. Once again his brain scrambled to keep up. God he’d missed her.

“How could I not?” he said.

“You didn’t have to, you know,” she said. “I was coming home.”

That she referred to Melbourne as home made him unreasonably happy.

“Not quickly enough, Miss Fisher,” he said.

“I didn’t really think you’d come,” she said. It was almost as though she were talking to herself now. “I found myself looking for you. I thought I saw you around every corner and then, suddenly, there you were. I thought you were an illusion. You rendered me quite speechless.”

“That is no small feat,” he said.

“Well, it was only for a moment,” she said breezily. “Now that you’re here, we’re going to have so much fun!” she said, turning him and linking her arm through his as she began strolling down the street.

And just like that they were back. The setting might be different, the air colder and damper, but the feeling was the same. The familiar weight of her hand on his arm. The scent of her perfume and the swelling in his chest. The way she pressed herself as close as possible as they walked, their steps falling into perfect time with each other. Familiar, comforting and thrilling all at once.

“I’m at your disposal, Miss Fisher,” he said. “Where would you like to begin?”


End file.
